


Not the Smartest Way to Start My Night

by dev0n



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev0n/pseuds/dev0n
Summary: "I walked away," Frank says slowly, staring out the glass sliding door facing the backyard of his apartment, "forfive minutes. What the actual fuck."Outside, there's a stranger sitting in the grass. A grey pitbull is wriggling delightedly in the stranger's lap as he scritches behind its ears.Frank'sgrey pitbull. It's Max."It's two in the goddamn morning," Frank splutters to himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another fratt fic inspired by one of the prompts on [this](http://iobeyfandoms.tumblr.com/post/123486434219/) AU list:
> 
>  
> 
> _“I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning[...]”_
> 
>  
> 
> No angsty backstories, just stupid fluffy AU bullshit. Not beta'd. ~~Probably poorly~~ proofread.
> 
> Edit: Changed title. Title from You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate by Zoey Van Goey.

"I walked away," Frank says slowly, staring out the glass sliding door facing the backyard of his apartment, "for _five minutes_. What the actual fuck."

Outside, there's a stranger sitting in the grass. A grey pitbull is wriggling delightedly in the stranger's lap as he scritches behind its ears. _Frank's_ grey pitbull. It's Max.

_What the fuck._

"It's two in the goddamn morning," Frank splutters to himself, still not moving to actually open the door. "He's only been outside a couple of minutes, what the fuck, what the..." Finally he forces himself to move, sliding open the door and stepping out onto the stone patio with his arms crossed.

"Max," Frank calls. Max looks up at him, then goes back to nosing at the stranger's hand. Traitor.

The stranger, however, looks up at Frank quickly, expression all but unreadable behind his dark-tinted glasses. "Is that his name?" he asks after a beat, face splitting into a grin. The only light in the backyard comes from the porch light, but the man is attractive, and Frank feels his heart flutter a little, which is ridiculous, because. This man is trespassing. And playing with his dog.

"Good boy, Max," the stranger says, and Max's nub of a tail is wriggling like crazy. Frank has never, ever seen his dog react to a stranger like this. Hell, it'd taken Max a good week to warm up to Karen, and she's one of the nicest people Frank's ever met.

"What the fuck." That seems to be the only thing Frank can think of to say tonight. The stranger's grin slides from his face. Frank refuses to feel bad about it. "It's past two in the morning, man. What the hell are you doing? You high?"

"No!" the stranger says quickly, sounding genuinely offended. "'M just -- I'm -- I'm really, really drunk." He slowly grins again, then laughs, stroking Max's fur. "And lost. And I lost my phone. And my keys. Then I found your dog... 'M sorry."

Frank sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. It's too goddamn late for this. At least he didn't find the guy passed out on his lawn, he supposes.

"How'd you get Max to be all friendly like that?" Frank asks in lieu of cussing the stranger out, stepping a little closer. The stranger shrugs and scratches Max behind the ears.

"Guess he didn't see me as a threat," he says.

Frank huffs. "Alright, alright. Get your drunk ass up, man, I'm too tired for this."

"Right -- okay." The stranger feels around in the grass for a moment, and Frank notices the collapsible cane beside him for the first time.

_Oh._

Frank crosses the few feet between them quickly and bends down, offering the stranger a hand. When the other doesn't react, Frank curses himself internally. "Lemme give you a hand." He gently taps the top of the stranger's hand so he knows where Frank's is. "You're..."

"Handsome?" the stranger fills in as he takes Frank's hand and lets him pull him to his feet. He's pretty unsteady, but he releases Frank's hand anyway. Frank huffs out something that's almost a laugh, and the stranger grins. "So I'm told."

Frank shuffles his feet, looking back over his shoulder toward his apartment. "Listen, you wanna come inside? Call someone?" he asks the stranger.

The other considers that for a second, then nods a little. "Yes, please." He starts to reach out toward Frank, but stops himself halfway. "Sorry -- may I?" he asks. Frank isn't quite sure what he means, and the stranger quickly fills in the blank. "Hold onto you, I mean. 'M not, uh... Not very balanced right now. Don't wanna trip on anything." He laughs sheepishly.

"Oh, right. Uh, yeah." The stranger curls his hand around Frank's bicep. Frank's brow furrows as he starts to walk. "Just grass ahead of us. 'Bout two feet of patio after that, then the door. Bit of a step up when we get there."

"Thank you," the stranger says earnestly. "Really. I'm sorry for -- for petting your dog without permission. And, uh, losing my phone."

Frank allows himself to smile a little, since the stranger can't see it. "Don't worry about it. Worse things could happen at 2AM than finding a drunk dude playin' with my dog in the back yard." Speaking of which. Frank pats his leg, and Max runs inside before them.

The stranger laughs again, a little harder than the situation calls for. Frank tells him where the step up is; to his credit, the stranger only stumbles a little. Frank reaches over to flick on the light.

"You can go sit over..." Frank starts to say, then catches himself. "Wait, shit. Sorry."

"It's alright," the stranger assures him. Frank leads him over to the couch, and the stranger sits down, setting his collapsible cane beside him. "I'm, I'm sure as soon as I call Foggy, he'll come get me. I mean, probably." His brow furrows. "He was drunk, too. I, I _swear_ I don't usually get this drunk." Then he adds, very seriously, "I'm a lawyer."

Frank isn't really sure what the correlation there is, but he doesn't question the lawyer's drunk logic. He leaves the stranger to pet Max while he tracks down his phone. Once he returns to the living room, Frank just barely catches himself before holding it out to the other.

Touch screen. Right.

"You know your friend's number, buddy?"

"Matt," the stranger supplies absently, turning his face up toward Frank with another grin that does funny things to his insides. "'S my name."

"Frank," he says briskly in response. There's silence for a second or two. Then Frank prompts, "Phone number?"

"Right! Right, sorry." Matt rattles off a number and Frank enters it into his phone, then presses talk and holds it out to Matt, making sure he holds it the right way up.

Frank sits on the chair near the couch. The apartment is quiet enough that he can hear the phone ringing. He also hears when it goes to voicemail for one 'Foggy Nelson'.

 _"Fuck,"_ Matt says passionately. Frank resists the urge to laugh. "Foggy, it's Matt. I'm -- I'm at Frank's house. He has a dog. I think he works out a lot, you should feel his _arms_..." Matt pauses. "I, uh. I'm not sure what to do? You didn't answer..."

__

__

Trying not to let himself get too flustered by the comment about his arms, Frank gently takes his phone from Matt's hand; Matt doesn't protest. "Call back at this number when you can. Found your buddy in my backyard with my dog. He's drunk off his ass. I guess I'll take care of him 'til I hear from you." He ends the call and rubs a hand over his face again, glancing up at Matt.

Matt, who... Looks ready to cry, Frank realizes with mild alarm. "I'm sorry," Matt says for about the fiftieth time that night. "I usually can get home _fine_ by myself, I dunno why... I'm so sorry, Frank."

"Hey, now. Hey. It's no big deal." Frank reaches out awkwardly and squeezes Matt's shoulder. "Why don't you lay down and get some rest, huh? I'm sure your friend will call back in the morning."

"... Are you sure?" Matt asks hesitantly, turning his head slightly toward Frank. "You don't have to..."

"I know I don't," Frank replies easily. "I wanna. Any friend of Max's is a friend of mine, huh?" He drops his hand from Matt's shoulder, reaching down to scratch his dog's ears instead. He's surprised by just how much he means those words. It's still an inconvenience, but he supposes it's not that big of a deal. It certainly helps that Matt is sort of ridiculously adorable...

Anyway.

Matt is smiling again, and he reaches a hand out gingerly until he finds Frank's knee. He pats it twice, then pulls away. "Alright. Thank you so much, Frank." Matt takes off his shoes, then feels slowly out in front of him until he touches the coffee table. He nudges his shoes underneath it, presumably so they're out of the way. He reaches up for his glasses, hesitating briefly before taking them off and folding them. Matt closes his eyes quickly before Frank can see them; Frank's curious, but he's not going to ask.

"There's a throw blanket behind you and a couch pillow to your left," Frank tells him. "One more thing before you lay down, man. Hang on."

He gets up and goes into the kitchen; when he returns, it's with a glass of water.

"Hand." Matt holds out his hand obediently. Frank gives him the glass, making sure Matt has a good grip before he lets go. "Drink. All of it. Or your hangover's gonna be ten times worse in the morning." His tone leaves no room for argument.

Matt grimaces, but Frank can tell it's mostly for show. Once again, he obeys Frank's command without vocalizing any complaint. Frank takes the glass back when Matt's finished with it, satisfied.

"Thank you," Matt repeats. Frank rolls his eyes almost fondly. "G'night, Frank."

"'Night, crazy drunk stranger," Frank mutters under his breath, heading for his bedroom. He swears he hears Matt laugh quietly in response.


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully, Frank wakes in the morning before Matt does.

He goes to check on the drunk lawyer and finds Max curled up beside him on the couch. Frank smiles in spite of himself, checking his phone to see if Matt's friend -- Foggy, wasn't it? -- gave him a call back. No such luck. Frank brushes his teeth and starts to make breakfast. Just as he's sliding the last pancake onto a plate and shutting off the stove, he finally hears Matt wake. There's a groan from the living room, followed by unintelligible grumbling. Then, more distinctly:

"What the fuck?"

Frank can't help it; he laughs, _hard_. He comes around the corner and sees that he's startled Matt, which he feels a little bad about, but. _Jesus Christ._

"Sorry, sorry. S'just, uh, I think I said the same thing about fifty times last night."

"Where _am_ I?" asks Matt, sounding annoyed and confused and annoyed at being confused. "Who are you?"

"My name is Frank," he says simply. Matt's head is turned away, eyes still closed. Frank is still curious, but he doesn't comment on it. He crosses the room and grabs Matt's glasses from the coffee table, gently placing them in his hand.

Matt slides them on with a murmured thanks, turning his head in Frank's direction. "Okay, Frank. Where am I?" He stops and holds up a hand before Frank can answer, expression turning into a grimace. "Actually, hold that thought. Can you bring me to a bathroom? I _really_ need to pee. And I... Also might need to vomit."

"Cute," Frank snorts, but he helps Matt to his feet and shows him where the bathroom is. He shows him where the toilet and sink are before letting him do his thing, shaking his head as he heads back into the kitchen and makes up two plates of breakfast.

"You doin' alright in there, pal?" Frank asks, returning a few minutes later.

"Yeah. Better, actually." Matt emerges from the bathroom, aiming a sheepish half-smile in Frank's general direction. There's a beat of silence, then Matt blurts, "Did we, uh --"

"No," Frank says quickly. "I found your drunk ass in my backyard at two in the goddamn morning."

"Oh." Pause. "... Wait, what? And you just... Let me in?"

Frank sighs and holds his arm out to Matt. "C'mon, I have aspirin and food. Your buddy hasn't called back yet."

"You're feeding me, too? You're a saint." Matt grins, accepting the offer and allowing Frank to lead him to the kitchen. He sits at the table, and Frank shows him where everything is before depositing a couple aspirin into his hand. He then recounts the tale of how he found Matt in his backyard the night before, relishing the increasingly mortified expression on the other man's face as he speaks. They're both laughing by the time he's done, though, and when Frank's done talking, Matt recounts how the night had gone up until the point where he blacked out.

Frank's just refilled both of their coffee cups when his phone goes off. It's the opening drumbeat of Rasputin by Boney M., which Matt must recognize, judging by the smirk that tugs at his lips.

"It's a good song," Frank says defensively, swiping to answer without looking at the caller. He doesn't get a chance to say a word before the person on the other end does.

"Matt?!" Comes a woman's panicked voice.

Wait.

"Karen?" Frank replies, looking extremely confused. He glances over to Matt, who tilts his head slightly. Frank can't help thinking that he looks like a confused puppy. _~~Fuck, that's adorable.~~ Focus, Frank._

"Frank?" Karen asks, sounding just as confused as he feels.

"What the fuck," Frank says flatly. He glances over to Matt, who just barely muffles a laugh against his hand. It makes Frank grin, too. He sets the phone on the table and taps the speaker icon.

"Why is your number in Foggy's phone? Wait -- oh my God, is Matt at _your_ house?" Karen laughs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Karen's voice goes a little distant, like she's leaning away from the phone as she addresses someone else. "No, Foggy, he's a guy I met through work a few months ago. Yes! He's a great guy, I'm sure Matt's fine!" She comes back to the phone. "I guess we're lucky he ended up with you... Is Matt there?"

"Present," Matt says, making no effort to conceal the amusement in his voice. "Apparently Frank found me in his backyard making friends with his dog last night. He was kind enough to let me crash on his couch."

"You're never living this down, buddy," says another voice. Frank assumes it's Foggy. "I was about to call the police, Matt!"

"I'm fine!" Matt laughs. "Frank has been more than hospitable." He tilts his head toward Frank. If he didn't know any better, Frank would say Matt's expression was rather affectionate.

"If you say so," Foggy says dubiously. "We'll come pick you up, alright? Karen, you know where this guy lives, right?"

"Yes," Frank hears Karen reply. "Tell him we'll be there in, like, ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," Foggy repeats. He must be closer to the phone than Karen is. "Don't die. Is Frank still there?"

"Yeah," Frank say, eyeing his phone warily. "You're on speaker."

"Oh." Foggy pauses. "Well... Thanks, man. We really owe you one."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I need a lawyer," Frank replies dryly. "See you." He hangs up before anyone has a chance to say anything more. There's a few seconds of silence before he speaks again.

"So you're _that_ Matt."

"So you're _that_ Frank."

And another beat of silence before they both erupt into laughter again. Frank can't remember the last time he laughed this much, or this hard. "I can't believe... _Boy,_ am I lucky I didn't throw you out on the street. Karen would've strangled me."

"Probably," Matt agrees. "Why _didn't_ you throw me out on the street, by the way?"

Frank pauses to consider that question, drumming his fingers on the table. "I guess 'cause Max trusts you," he admits, shrugging. "He _never_ warms up to people as fast as he warmed up to you. And it didn't hurt that you had the whole... Adorable kicked puppy thing goin' for you."

Matt grins at Frank, and he feels butterflies in his stomach. "You think I'm adorable?" he asks, somehow sounding both smug and flattered.

Embarrassed, Frank huffs, but he doesn't quite manage to sound truly irritated. "Not anymore," he replies, and Matt laughs again, reaching one hand across the table. Frank hesitates, then lets his own hand slide closer so they meet halfway. Matt rests his hand on top of his, and Frank feels those butterflies again. Christ. He's _fucked._

"Thank you," Matt says sincerely. Frank scoffs, still rather flustered. He can't look him in the face, even though he knows Matt can't look back. "No, I mean it, Frank!" Matt insists earnestly. "You didn't need to do that. You didn't owe me anything. I don't know how I can ever repay that kind of kindness."

"Have dinner with me," Frank says quickly. It's not exactly smooth, and he feels his face go hot, but he doesn't try to correct himself. "You -- you can take me out somewhere for dinner. That's repayment enough for me."

Matt's grinning again, but there's something softer about it this time. Less smug, maybe; something more affectionate. "Yeah? You asking me to take you on a date, Frank?"

"Maybe," Frank replies, a smile tugging at his own lips. "If you want me to be." He pauses. "Or it can just be dinner. Up to you, counselor."

"Definitely a date," Matt decides without a moment's hesitation. "But are you sure you wanna date a random stranger you found drunk in your backyard in the middle of the night?"

Frank hums as if considering the question. Then he turns his hand palm-up, wrapping his hand around Matt's and giving it a squeeze.

"Yeah, I think I do. Like I said: if Max trusts you, so do I."

Karen and Foggy arrive shortly later. Frank makes sure Matt has all of his things together, then shows him over to the door. When Karen and Foggy have their backs turned, Matt quickly leans up and pecks Frank on the cheek.

"I'll call you later," Matt promises. He pauses for a second, then adds, "... After I get a new phone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe 'what the fuck' will be our 'always'


End file.
